We published an essay on the Jews of India a few weeks ago, pointing out that the Jews of that vast peninsula have little pride in either their race or their country. Wilfred David, a young English Jew who has spent most of his life in India except for intervals spent at Cambridge and on a tour of the continent, wrote the piece. He is currently in England, where he intends to stay until a specific storm in India has passed.
Mr. David is twenty-six years old, and it’s good to think that at that age, you’ve generated a storm in a country as large and densely populated as India. Mr. David has reason to believe that he has twisted the lion’s tail in India— with a book, no less— but we don’t know how much. “Monsoon” is the title of the book, and the least we can say about it is that it is deuced smart, even if Harold J. Laski, who is normally sober-minded, declares it the best Indian novel since “A Passage to India.” Harper’s is the publisher.
